The Third George

by Jean Plaidy

  The next offer was of the Duchy of Lancaster an exceedingly luscious plum; since all he would have to do was accept revenues from the Crown. But Mr. Pitt was too wily to fall into this trap.

  Then came the final offer. His wife should become a peeress Baroness of Chatham; and he himself should have a pension of 3000 pounds a year for three lives, which meant that on his death his wife would have it, then his son, and if his wife died before he died, it would go to his grandson.

  The previous offers had been rejected with scorn; but over this last Pitt hesitated. When he had told his wife of the last offer he had seen a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. So Hester would like to be Baroness Chatham. He was deeply in love with Hester and had been for some time before they married. She was one of the Grenvilles - a girl surrounded by brothers, and in the days before his marriage Pitt had often been a guest at Wootton Hall where he had fascinated not only Hester but her brothers with his eloquence and that undeniable air of greatness; he had married Hester seven years ago and they had five children, three boys and two girls, the youngest, James, being only a few months old. Pitt was devoted to his family. They and his career were all that mattered to him; Hester mattered in particular.

  She had betrayed to him by a look that she would enjoy possessing the title; and it was in his power to give it to her. He knew too that she liked the idea of the pension. 3000 a year and not only for him. They were not poor by any means. Hester had brought a large dowry; he had a little from his family; and the Duchess of Marlborough in her eccentric way had left him 10,000 pounds for, she had written, his noble defence for the support of the laws of England. Yet with this new offer there came no conditions. He could accept it and relinquish nothing. A temporary absence from the centre of the stage might even be desirable, for he suffered excruciatingly from the gout.

  The King and Bute were surprised and immensely gratified when he accepted this offer. "Now,”

  cried Bute, 'we shall tell the people in our own way what has happened.”

  The first move was to appoint Charles Wyndham, Earl of Egremont, to succeed Pitt as Secretary of State for the Southern Department and Bute saw that it should be made absolutely clear to the public that Pitt had accepted a pension and peerage in exchange for his office. It was written in the Court Circular: The Right Honourable William Pitt having resigned the Seals into the King's hands, His Majesty was this day pleased to appoint the Earl of Egremont to tie one of His Majesty's principal Secretaries of State. And in consideration of the great and important service of the said Mr. Pitt, His Majesty has been graciously pleased to direct that a warrant be prepared for granting to the Lady Hester Pitt, his wife, a Barony of Great Britain, by the name, style and title of Baroness Chatham to her heirs male; and also to confer on the said William Pitt, an annuity of three thousand pounds sterling, during his own life and that of Lady Hester Pitt and their son John Pitt, Esq.

  The people were astonished as Bute had intended they should be when they heard this news. Nor did Bute intend that it should rest there. Like most politicians he had his dependants in the literary world whom he used to further his own cause. Very soon a song was being sung in the streets of London a sneer at the fallen idol: Three thousand a year's no contemptible thing, To accept from the hand of a patriot King, (With thanks to the bargain for service and merit), Which the wife and son all three shall inherit. With limited honours to her and her heirs So farewell to old England. Adieu to all cares.

  Pitt had no intention of being misrepresented. As a politician who, even his enemies had to admit, had done a great deal for his country, he had not been overpaid with his peerage and 3000 a year pension. But he would not have the people assuming that he had taken this in exchange for leaving his post. He had a letter circulated which told the true story: Finding to my great surprise [he wrote] that the cause and manner of my resigning the Seals is grossly misrepresented in the City, as well as that the most gracious and spontaneous remarks of His Majesty's approbation of my services, which marks followed my resignation, having been infamously traduced as a bargain for my forsaking the public, I am under the necessity of declaring the truth of both these facts, in a manner which I am sure no gentleman will contradict.

  A difference of opinion with regard to measures to be taken against Spain, of the highest importance and honour of the Crown, and to the most essential National interests (and this founded on what Spain has already done, not on what that Court may further intend to do) was the cause of my resigning the Seals. Lord Temple and I submitted in writing and signed by us, our most humble sentiments to His Majesty; which being overruled by the united opinion of all the rest of the King's servants, I resigned the Seals on the fifth of this month, in order not to remain responsible for measures which I was no longer able to guide. Most gracious public marks of His Majesty's approbation followed my resignation. They are unmerited and unsolicited and I shall ever be proud to have received them from the best of Sovereigns.

  When this was handed round the City and the obvious truth of it realized, Pitt's popularity shot up again; and Lord Bute's attempts to discredit him had entirely failed. All the public had to realize was that though he no longer had a place in the cabinet, he had no intention of forsaking his duty.

  The Princess Dowager, unaware of public feeling, was delighted with the turn of events. With Lord Bute she called on her son and embracing him cried: "Thank God. Now, George, you are in truth King of England.”

  A visit to a Quaker house

  The King and Queen were taking breakfast together. This was a very pleasant part of the day, Charlotte often thought. George was always so courteous and she really believed he was growing fonder of her, which surprised and delighted her, for she was fully aware of her lack of beauty; and there was no doubt that George with his golden hair, blue eyes and fresh complexion was a handsome man. In Court dress he looked truly magnificent; he even looked pleasant in the early morning.

  He took only a dish of tea at breakfast.

  "I must be on my guard," he told Charlotte, 'against getting fat. It is a characteristic of the family.”

  "But a dish of tea! It seems so little. I really think I should persuade you to take a little more.”

  He smiled at her rather cautiously. He wanted her to know that although he was determined to be a good husband to her, he was not allowing any interference even in the matter of a dish of tea.

  Tactfully he changed the subject.

  "You will be interested in this Lord Mayor's Show. I doubt you have ever seen anything like it.”

  "I am constantly seeing things which I have never seen before. It makes life very interesting.”

  He looked at her covertly. They had been married nearly two months. Was there any sign yet? He had certainly not failed in his conjugal duties. It might even be that already she was with child.

  "We shall be the guests of the City, I believe," she was saying. "How I love the City. I find it absorbingly interesting.”

  "How are you getting on with your English?”

  "Oh ... tolerably well. I am taking my lesson every day.”

  "Try speaking it.”

  She did, haltingly, and he corrected her. She was laughing with him over her odd pronunciation.

  What a blessing, she said, that he could speak German so well. "Even when I speak English proficiently we shall speak in German, shall we not, when we are alone together. We shall make it our intimate language.”

  He nodded. "Although you must work hard at your English.”

  "Oh, George, I will.”

  "I think my grandfather made a great mistake in not speaking it well. Now ... the plans for the ninth.”

  She smiled cosily. How he liked making plans. He would go to such trouble to arrange the guests for the most informal ball even when he must have very important state matters on his mind.

  There was the affair of Mr. Pitt for one thing.

  She ventured: "There is much talk of Mr. Pitt.”

  He frowned. "O
h, he is no longer in the cabinet.”

  "I did learn that there is a great deal of feeling in the City about his resignation.”

  "Who told you this?”

  "Oh ... I do not remember. It is often talked of. It seems a pity. He is a great man, they say; and it is sad that his talents should not be used in the service of the nation.”

  George was not having this. He must make her understand that he had no intention of talking politics with her. It was not a woman's place to interfere. He had seen too much of women's meddling. He was beginning to think that his mother interfered too much; but she was old and wise and he had always listened to her. But he was not going to have Charlotte becoming another Princess Dowager. Queens and mistresses of kings had often sought to dominate them. It was not going to be said that George III was so dominated ... except by his mother when he was young.

  George was beginning to think that one day he might have to tell his mother that he would make up his own mind. So he did not want Charlotte beginning to interfere.

  He said shortly: "That matter is settled. It is of no interest to you. I will show you the route the Lord Mayor's Show will take." He spread a map on the table and Charlotte was immediately absorbed. It was like the old days with Madame de Grabow. Now she followed George's finger as it traced the route.

  "And where shall we be?" asked Charlotte.

  George had turned a faint pink and she wondered why. He stammered as he answered: "There ...

  there is a house opposite Bow Church in Cheapside where it is possible to get a fine view of the Lord Mayor's Show. Its owners have invited us to see it from their house.”

  "How strange," murmured Charlotte.

  "It is not at all strange," replied George, almost too vehemently. "It is a very fine house and it is in fact... most suitable. There are balconies from which we can see everything in ease and comfort.

  And these people are Quakers. I ... I think the Quakers are very fine people indeed. I... I have always felt that this was a religion ... had I not been king of this realm ... which I could have followed.”

  He was looking at her almost defiantly, and she said: "You must tell me more of this Quaker religion. You have known many Quakers, I suppose.”

  George grew a shade pale and, turning, went to the window and looked out. He said in a muffled voice: "My position makes it necessary for me to meet many of my subjects.”

  The Queen was puzzled. What was the reason for this strange vehemence and embarrassment?

  Was it because he was asking her to see the procession from a house which he did not consider suitable for a queen? Or was it because he really felt strongly about becoming a Quaker? Of course that was impossible.

  How restricted we are, thought Charlotte, and she saw poor Christina's face with the sad expression which had been there from the time her sister had heard that her marriage would not take place. Poor Christina. There was no freedom for a princess ... or a king for that matter.

  "George," she said, 'do you feel strongly about this Quaker matter?”

  Her words did nothing to ease the tension. "Of course not," he said sharply; and then: "I have matters to which I must attend.”

  He left her at the breakfast table, wondering why his mood should suddenly have changed.

  It was almost as though he were hiding some secret.

  Charlotte was being dressed for the Lord Mayor's Show. It was a state occasion so she would be most splendidly attired. Her women had dressed her hair in what they called coronation ringlets; these were crowned with a circle of diamonds. Her gown was silk and gold and silver brocade; her stomacher glittered with diamonds and she was not displeased with the reflection which looked back at her. Such clothes could take the plainness out of the most ordinary face; and Charlotte was always pleased to win the admiration of spectators.

  The little page boy, dressed in scarlet and silver, was standing by waiting to carry her train, and Elizabeth Chudleigh was chattering away to the Marchioness of Lome; they did not know that Charlotte was understanding a little more English every day.

  "So it's to be the house of the Quaker," laughed Elizabeth Chudleigh. "Well, he has been said to have a special fondness for them.”

  "This is the Barclays. Very rich bankers, the Barclays. Prosperous simplicity is the order of the day. I'm sure H.M. is glad that the house chosen was not in St. James's Market.”

  "Would Hannah's family have had him?”

  The women tittered together. How strange! thought Charlotte. Had she translated that conversation correctly? She was not sure; but George himself had said something about Quakers.

  What was this Quaker mystery? There was something she was sure. Perhaps she would find out today.

  "They say the people are massing in the streets," went on Elizabeth. "Pitt's supporters are all out. I don't think they are going to send up happy cheers for the Favourite, do you?”

  "When have they ever?”

  "Never. But with Mr. Pitt riding in the procession they could get really offensive about Master Bute and Her R.H.”

  Pitt! Bute! The Princess! Charlotte could guess what these frivolous women were talking about.

  She herself disliked the Princess Dowager and was sure her mother-in-law disliked her in return.

  It was rather disgraceful that she should be so talked about on account of Lord Bute. What did the King think? Whatever he thought he kept it to himself. He was very fond of them both more fond, Charlotte suspected, than of her.

  She smiled to herself. That was going to change. George was not going to remain his mother's boy now that he was a husband, She had a suspicion that he might soon be a father, but she was not sure yet. When he was, everything would be changed. The important people in his life would be his wife, his sons and daughters not his dominating mother and her paramour. Charlotte, glittering with diamonds, pink with the pleasure of contemplating the excitement of what was very possibly the case, left her apartments to take her place beside the King in the coach in which they would drive to the Quaker household from where they would see the show.

  Pitt was reluctant to be a part of the procession, but Lady Hester was certain that he should.

  "If you don't," she said, 'the people will believe that you are ashamed to face them and in a day or so they will be saying that the lies Bute put about against you are true.”

  Pitt smiled. "They will have read my correction.”

  "Slander sticks," insisted Lady Hester, and Pitt had to agree that she was right.

  "But the banquet is to honour the King. I do not wish to bring about an uncomfortable situation by appearing.”

  "You should be there. I am certain of it. You must convince the people of the City that you are still one of them. You resigned because the cabinet did not agree with you. You accepted the pension and my title as just rewards for your work ... and Heaven knows you deserve them. You have the future to think of, William. You must go.”

  So Pitt gave way and he and his brother-in-law, Lord Temple, joined the procession in their coach.

  The Princess Dowager was deeply concerned about her lover. He would have to ride through the city and the people of London blamed him for the dismissal of Pitt. Bute assured her that he had taken precautions against any unpleasantness which might occur: "I have hired strong men to follow my coach and they will be on the spot when needed.”

  "So you expect trouble." Cried the Princess Dowager.

  "Let us say that I always believe in being prepared for it.”

  The Princess shuddered. Since the resignation of Pitt, the temper of the public towards her and her lover had grown more hostile. In the past the people had sung songs about them, had contented themselves with whispered scandal. They had merely been silent when they rode through the streets. Now they had changed. They shouted after her carriage and she knew they did after Lord Bute's, too. When she had last driven through certain streets, placards had been waved before the coach so that she could not fail to see them. On them had been cr
udely drawn a jackboot and petticoat. Some of the people even carried the boot and petticoat. They shouted obscenities after her carriage.

  The petticoat was meant to represent her and the jackboot was a play on her lover's name. He was John therefore Jack and Boot stood for Bute. The country was governed by Jackboot and Petticoat, called these people, and they were by no means reticent about the relationship they believed to exist between these two; nor did they hesitate to discuss it in lewd and lurid terms.

  The Princess shuddered. "I wish you were not riding in the procession," she said, but Bute only smiled at her. Of course he must be there. It was an occasion when all men of standing must be present. She need have no fear. He had arranged for protection from the mob should it be needed.

  Had he not always been able to take care of himself?

  Charlotte sat in the state coach with the King. The journey from St. James's Palace to Cheapside was just over two miles, but although they had left the Palace at noon they were still on the way after three o'clock on account of the roads being so jammed with the people who had come to see the show; and because of the carriages, carts and sedans of the spectators the procession made slow progress. The people were able to come up to the coach and stare in at the King and Queen.

  George greeted them with warm, affectionate smiles; and Charlotte did her best to look pleasant.

  "God save the King ... and the Queen!" cried the people.

  About the state coach were the Grenadier Guards, the Horse Guards and the Yeomen of the Guard, all in their brilliant uniforms, making a show to delight the people. But just ahead of them was the coach in which the Princess Dowager was riding with her daughters, the Princesses Augusta and Caroline Matilda, and Charlotte could hear the shouts of derision which were hurled at that particular vehicle.

  "Where's the Scotch Stallion?" called a voice in the crowd. George heard it and his lips tightened.

  He did not like to hear his mother thus insulted; but it occurred to him that the relationship between Lord Bute and his mother was so close as to give rise to speculation. He refused to believe that they were anything but good friends; in his great desire to bring morality back to the Court he could not face any other conclusion. These were the two people to whom he was closest; he could not allow himself to believe they were living in a manner of which he would heartily disapprove. Therefore he preferred to believe the people were wrong, and it distressed him deeply.